


Ashes to Ashes

by lais



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: 2park, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dark Past, Don't kill me please, Drama & Romance, Fluff, I'mSOdead, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mystery, Police, Violence, assasin, bunssodan, kpop, pinksausage, wannaone - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-06-30 10:18:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lais/pseuds/lais
Summary: Park Jihoon is a police officer, and Park Woojin is the assassin that he's been looking for. Jihoon and Woojin might have to put their differences aside when Seoul's high school students start disappearing, and it turns out that Woojin's also looking for the person who killed Jihoon's parents.The truth is uglier than it looks.





	1. From Ashes to Ashes

> "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." - Genesis 3:19, KJV

 

 

_“Mom!” the little boy screamed, “Mom!”_

_The fire roared even louder as the boy clutched to his mother, her body lifeless as his tears stained her blouse. His father’s body lied close by, his head crushed into the ground. He kneeled over his mother’s body, grabbing her shirt in fists, attempting to shake her up. His eyes widened as he now stared at his hands and the cloth, stained in deep red blood._

_The fire was getting unbearable, as the boy started to wail in agony, and the smoke became thicker. He choked back on his tears, still refusing to let go of his parents, who were now long gone._

_A group of firefighters had pulled him out from the scene. He thrashed against their restraints, clawing in desperation to get back to his parents. He still believed if he was next to them, he’d somehow see their eyes open and see them stir once more._

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Park Jihoon rolled to the right side of his bed, slamming his fist down on his trusty alarm clock. The clock beeped in response before shutting off, and Jihoon groaned as he threw a pillow at the wall. Rays of light peeked their way in from the window shutters, as if they were teasing Jihoon and telling him to get up. He finally obliged, accepting that he was no longer going to be able to sleep any longer.

“These goddamn dreams,” he muttered, sitting up as he rubbed his eyes, “I need a fucking break.”

Park Jihoon was a twenty-two year old who was residing in a small apartment in the city of Seoul, South Korea. Living alone and as single as could be, he was the quiet type who tended to not speak much (Which, he kind of preferred. He didn’t have to take care of anyone but himself, could eat whatever the hell he wanted, and do whatever the hell he wanted. It was quite nice). He groggily put his slippers on, padding to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

It surely was bright and early for a Monday morning. Still half-asleep, Jihoon took off his round glasses, grabbing the half-empty can of shaving cream that rested on his countertop. Hearing the faithful “fwoosh” of the can, he palmed the dollop of foam in his hands before rubbing it all over his face.

Blinking twice at his reflection in the mirror, Jihoon subconsciously placed his pointer finger over the scar that was etched into the nape of his neck. Glassy-eyed, he traced his finger over the dark line, the gash prominent on his skin.

It’s been ten years.

He remained silent as he went back to washing his face. Slipping into a dark navy long-sleeve and a pair of black slacks, he grabbed his police badge from his dresser before heading for his kitchen.

Ever since he was little, Jihoon had wanted to become a police officer. He had always thought of them as real-life superheroes; defending the city from crime, helping the elderly, and doing the right thing. It was an easy decision for him after college, and as soon as he could, he applied to become a part of the Seoul Police Department. It wasn’t as glamorous as his adolescent self used to dream.

A toothbrush in one hand and a tie in the other, Jihoon was waiting for his cup of coffee to brew as he tuned into the daily news. Spitting his toothpaste into the sink, Jihoon kept his eyes on the screen.

“We’re back with another case of a missing person,” the news anchor had announced, sighing as they read the papers in front of them, “Miss Jeon Somi, age 16, a student of IOI high school was reported missing after disappearing for a few days.”

The screen instantly showed a picture of the girl. Jihoon noted she was fairly pretty, with snow-white skin, long locks of ash brown hair, and wide eyes. The boys in his high school class would have easily fallen for her.

“This is the third missing person in the last two weeks,” the anchor continued, looking worriedly into the screen, “So, as a forewarning, the Seoul Police Department is asking for the citizens’ cooperation to not leave their houses late at night and to make sure that all your doors are locked until the perpetrator is found.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow, now shoving a piece of toast in his mouth and downing his cup of coffee. He did know that there were people that were going missing, but based off his knowledge, he thought it was a private case. His cell phone suddenly rang, snapping him out of his thoughts, and Jihoon brought it to his ear to answer.

“Hello?”

“Jihoon, what the hell are you doing?” his coworker, Lee Daehwi whispered, “Get to the station; with that new girl missing, the chief is livid!”

Daehwi and Jihoon have been friends for ages, going all the way back to middle school. Unlike Jihoon, Daehwi was bright and bubbly, popular with all things alike, and the last person to expect to become a police officer (Jihoon still thinks that Daehwi secretly wanted to be a daycare sitter, but who knows?). But being the person he was, Daehwi always went to his shift extremely early, and was usually the one who screamed at Jihoon to get up in the morning.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jihoon replied back, slipping his shoes on. He fumbled with his keys before locking his apartment door, and headed towards the elevators.

\---  
“Another girl missing,” the chief repeated, rubbing his temples, “Another.”

As soon as Jihoon reached the Seoul Police Department, he was thrown into an emergency meeting along with his co-workers. They were now sitting in a long, plastic table as their chief stood in the front, discussing the upcoming crisis.

Kim Jonghyun was a stout man, but had a personality to cover for it. He wore his police uniform with the utmost class, with a head full of salt-and-pepper hair, and fine wrinkles from age. He was a well-known figure to the public, known for his various good deeds and had taken over the Seoul Police Station, promising the citizens to keep their city safe. Jihoon and Daehwi have never seen him so frustrated as he stood in the front of the room.

“In all my years as a police officer at this station, this has never happened before. Not even once.”

“Not even the Kang Dongho incident, sir?” one of Jihoon’s coworkers piped up.

“Yes, Mr. Seonho,” Jonghyun replied, his eyes narrowing, “Not even Kang Dongho has taken it this far.”

They’ve been on this missing persons case for weeks. It started with Kim Chungha from IOI High School, and then Takada Kenta from JBJ Academy. Jeon Somi was the third person, and they hadn’t even figured who had taken the other two yet.

“Someone tell me about this new girl,” Jonghyun motioned, slumping into a chair, “Hit me with anything you’ve got.”

Kang Daniel, another officer, quickly stood up, now reading off the papers that he held in his hand.

“I did some digging. Jeon Somi isn’t anyone special; her dad works for some construction company. There’s no alibi or anyone in particular that could be after her. Her life is plain, she has no fortune, and she’s just a pretty face. What if it’s just a crazy pedophile, or even a stalker?”

“It’s not that, Mr. Kang,” Jonghyun replied, shaking his head, “I’m sure that it wasn’t just some rejected lover.”

“How do we know these cases are all connected?” asked the man sitting behind Jihoon, “I mean, maybe they’re all separate cases.” Jonghyun stiffly turned to answer him.

“Mr. Lai, I understand that you are a foreigner here, but please understand that my gut instinct is never wrong. They are connected; I just know so.”

The room fell silent. There was no pattern between the victims; it all seemed too random. Kim Chungha hailed from a rich background, Takada Kenta was the baker’s son, and now Jeon Somi disappeared. Jihoon racked his brain, trying to find the missing key that tied them altogether as Jonghyun continued to speak.

“The public is going crazy,” Jonghyun continued, now slamming his fist on the desk, “And the more terrified they are, the harder it is to control them. The superintendent called me this morning, saying if we don’t solve this soon, it’ll be hell for us. So, I suggest you all stop eating the fucking jelly donuts, get off your asses, and get to work.”

\---

“Just what the hell was that about?” Daehwi complained, as he and Jihoon stood inside the printing room. Jihoon didn’t reply as he boiled a pot of water, loosening the tie around his neck. Daehwi huffed, turning his attention back to the printer. After being “scolded” by Jonghyun, the police officers were now all attempting to work on the case. The station was in a frenzy, with half of their coworkers out and about, and the other half answering the panicked phone calls.

“Do you know how many flyers I’ve had to make with this girl’s face on it?” Daehwi groaned, collecting the black and white copies fresh off the tray, “I bet I could draw her from my memory by now!”

Daehwi slid over a flyer to Jihoon, who was mixing a packet of instant coffee into his hot water, instantly spitting it out. He looked at the paper, with a large “HAVE YOU SEEN ME?” printed at the top. Looking past Daehwi, he stared at the bulletin board, where two other versions of the poster were already hanging.

“You realize that we’re basically tree killers at this point too, right?”

“You think I don’t know that? I wish we could just figure out what’s been going on, Seoul has never been this crazy,” Daehwi shot back, scrunching his nose. He grabbed Jihoon’s instant coffee, gagging at the watery taste and handing it back.

“By the way, this is disgusting.”

“I didn’t ask for you to try it.”

\---  
After a long day, all Jihoon wanted to do was sleep. He exited the station, waving goodbye to his coworkers as he trudged back home to the subway station.

It was late. It was nearing Christmas time, with the sound of holiday songs and carolers echoing and the thin blanket of snow that covered the streets, people flocked the streets in attempt to buy last minute presents. Jihoon paid no heed as he continued to walk, zipping his jacket all the way up to stay warm. He eyed the missing posters (which he suspected Daehwi had hung up today), and a newspaper clipping had tumbled by his feet. Jihoon kneeled down to pick it up, his stomach instantly dropping when he read the article’s title.

“TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY SINCE SEOUL FIRE INCIDENT, CAUSES STILL UNKNOWN.”

His eyes fell upon the black and white cover photo, where a fire was photographed in front of the large train station. Even through the pictures, he could smell the smoke in the air, hear the ground crackling, and the screams that remained the last he ever heard from his parents.

The station’s been rebuilt for years now, and all that was left was a small little plague that commerated to his parents, as well as the hundred others, who died that night.

Jihoon threw the paper into the trash, and headed to the platform as he awaited the train’s arrival.


	2. From Dust to Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> miyawaki sakura comes to the police for help.

 

 

 

> “Ring around the Rosy,
> 
> Pocket full of posies,
> 
> Ashes, Ashes,
> 
> We all fall down.”
> 
> \- Old Nursery Rhymes (1881)

 

“No, really, you have to help me!” pleaded the girl, clutching her hands into tight fists.

 

Jihoon sighed. This was the tenth person today to come into the police station claiming that they had a lead on the one who was behind all of the missing people. It was now a week since Jeon Somi’s disappearance, and after the Seoul Police Department decided to reach out to the public for assistance, they’ve got nothing but frantic calls and dead ends. 

 

Sakura Miyawaki was a seventeen year old foreign-exchange student from Kagoshima, Japan, who came frantically flying into the police station. Her hair was pulled into a small ponytail and thick glasses covering her eyes. Sakura reminded Jihoon of his past middle school self, who overindulged in video games and nothing else. She sat across Jihoon in the interrogation room, staring at him straight in the eye to prove that she wasn’t going to back down any time soon. 

 

“Miss Miyawaki, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can help you right now,” Jihoon answered, flipping through the witness packet, “I just don’t see the correlation.” 

 

He quickly read her background information. She lived alone, spent too much on comics at the local 7/11, and was a somewhat decent student. Sakura was also known to be surprisingly skilled in computers back in Japan, and didn’t have too many friends. She was currently going to IOI High School, which Jihoon remembered was the same high school that the other two girls had went to before disappearing. 

 

“You have to! I  _ know _ I’m next!” she insisted, more urgent than ever, “I  _ knew  _ Somi and Chungha. I  _ knew _ Kenta. It’s all connected, I’m sure of it!”

 

“According to Somi and Chungha’s parents, they’ve never heard of you before,” Jihoon countered, “So therefore, you either are making up a lie like the last eight people, or you’re taking drugs. If it’s the second case, I’m going to have to search your bag.”

 

He proceeded to motion for her to hand over her navy blue backpack, which she now clutched onto tighter.

 

“There’s no need for that. There is someone after us. Officer Park, you have to believe me. I wouldn’t lie; I swear I’m saying the truth.”

 

“Are you really?” Jihoon questioned, raising one eyebrow, “Miss Miyawaki, it could be anyone. You’re not the only one who came in to say they know whoever’s behind this, and we don’t have time for games. What makes you say you know what you’re talking about?”

 

He pressed the teenage girl for an answer, but she quickly shook her head. 

 

“Sir, I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you how I know something, but I can tell you what I know.”

 

“Then how do you expect me to believe you?” Jihoon frustratingly spoke out, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I don’t know if you’re trying to find an excuse to get out of school or something, but I need to get back to a  _ real _ case. If this is some dumb girl drama, take it to your counselor, and not officials.”

 

“You just have to trust me,” she insisted once again, leaning forward in the plastic chair, “Please. You have to. He’s after us.”

 

“And can you tell me why this so-called ‘person’ is after you and your ‘friends’?”

 

“No.”

 

Jihoon rubbed his temples, and motioned for her to leave the station. 

 

“Please get out. I don’t trust anyone, so I definitely wouldn’t trust you.”

 

“Bu-”

 

“Just get out.”

 

Sakura simply stared at him for  a few seconds before grabbing her things. As she walked out the door, she turned back around to utter one last phrase.

 

“Well, if you find me missing in the next few days, consider it as your fault, Mr. Park.”

 

She slammed the door behind her and stalked off, and Jihoon scribbled out her name as a potential witness. 

 

“Teenagers these days.”

 

Jihoon sighed in relief that there were no others who were waiting to be heard, and headed on over to the break room. It was still early in the morning, and he knew that if he didn’t take in some caffeine, he surely wouldn’t survive the day.

 

Grabbing another packet of instant coffee, Jihoon went to reach for a pot of water before accidentally burning himself. The pain was hot and flashing red, and Jihoon cursed under his breath as he instantly removed his hand from the metal. 

 

Jihoon walked out of the room, his plastic cup full of coffee powder abandoned.

 

\----

Lai Guanlin moved from Taiwan a couple of years ago and joined Daehwi, Daniel, and Jihoon in their department at the Seoul Police Station. After a week, they became close friends, and Guanlin was quickly added to their friend circle. Though his Korean was sometimes difficult to understand, Guanlin was an extremely critical thinker, and if there was anyone who could pinpoint who the culprit was, it would be him. 

 

“Okay, so let’s go over it again,” Guanlin said, sliding Jihoon a copy of the posters, “What do these students all have in common?” 

 

Ever since the disappearances, the police officers (more like Daehwi) circulated flyers with the missing students’ information and pictures. Jihoon took a quick glance at the black and white pictures of the two girls and the boy. The large “HAVE YOU SEEN ME?” font stood smack dab in the middle of the page.

 

“They’re all in high school?”

 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Guanlin retorted, rolling his eyes, “I didn’t think you’d state the obvious.” 

 

Jihoon looked at him with a blank expression, and Guanlin took a black pen and started explaining each of the flyers. 

 

“So we know that Kim Chungha was the first to go missing. Her background information states that her parents owned quite a lot of money. She was an only child, and she was quite the popular kid at school.”

 

Guanlin then pulled out the flyer with the boy’s face on it. He reminded Jihoon of an elf, with pointed ears, an impish grin, and a mop of curly brown hair. He looked completely harmless. 

 

“This is Takada Kenta. He was born in Korea, but he’s full Japanese. Same grade as Chungha, and went to the all-boys school called JBJ Academy. Apparently, he was there on an academic scholarship, and had a small career as a street dancer on the weekends. Besides that, his parents are your average middle-class workers, and he’s just your typical high school boy.”

 

“And what about Jeon Somi?” 

 

Guanlin frowned. “That’s what I can’t figure out. I thought you might be able to think out of the box or something.”

 

He pulled out Somi’s picture.

 

“Jeon Somi is the sore thumb. She didn’t go to any fancy school, hell, she was homeschooled! Apparently she had just came back from living with her father in Canada, who did indeed work in construction, and was about to move in with her mom. She’s a world-class judo champion, and qualified for the Olympics. If there’s someone who’s behind all three of these kids, it would make no sense for them to want Somi, because she wouldn’t have been in Korea long enough for someone to start holding a grudge against her.”

 

“Maybe it was personal vendetta?”

 

Guanlin looked skeptically at the three pictures in front of him again, his eyebrows furrowed as he went deep in thought.

 

“Maybe.”

 

The two of them were interrupted as Daehwi came into the room, barely standing upright underneath all of the papers he was carrying. 

 

“Jonghyun is back at it again,” complained Daehwi, slamming a pile of freshly-printed flyers onto his desk, “He wanted me to double the amount of paper I used yesterday.”

 

The stack of papers was almost up to Jihoon’s waist. Daehwi continued to wave his arms in frustration as he started counting how many copies he made. 

 

“I don’t get paid enough to walk around the entire city, hauling and sticking these papers everywhere,” Daehwi huffed, “At this point, I might as well be convicted for murdering a whole forest of trees.” 

 

“You’ll be a tree murderer until we find those kids, Daehwi,” called Daniel, “You should accept your fate now.”

 

“Shut up, Daniel.”

 

Kang Daniel was the oldest of the bunch. With striking blonde hair and extremely broad shoulders, he tended to brag about all of the women he could catch (to which, Daehwi and Jihoon both snorted at), and all of his amazing features. Though somewhat cocky, Daniel was the build for a policeman; he was tall, brooding, and had a nasty right punch. Though somewhat badass, Daniel was also a local cat dad who also liked to solve puzzles. He was fumbling with a rubix cube, eyes lighting up when he successfully got all the same colors on the same side; but was interrupted as someone smacked him across the head.

 

“You lazy fucks!” Jonghyun scolded, snatching the cube away. His eyes were frazzled and his hair was unkempt, with the red rims around his eyes proving how little sleep he had gotten. 

 

“You fools realize that there are kids  _ disappearing _ out there, yet you’re focused on some plastic cube? What type of policemen are you?”

 

Jihoon, Guanlin, Daehwi, and Daniel all scrambled back to their desks as Jonghyun continued to lecture them.

 

“And to think the three of you are from the Seoul Police Academy! I mean, what the hell were they thinking with your graduating class? You’re all dumb in the head!”

 

“Glad you think so, sir,” Daehwi mumbled, straightening the flyers on his desk. Jonghyun sighed before stalking off, muttering under his breath about “the generation these days.”

“What’s with him?” complained Daniel, frowning at their boss ruining his game, “What are we supposed to do? We can’t just miraculously pull a suspect out of our asses.”

 

“Just let him simmer down,” Guanlin sighed, leaning his head on his desk, “I mean, this is the first time he hasn’t been able to crack down on a case.”

 

\---

 

“Alright, good work everyone,” Jonghyun announced, giving them all a slap on the back on their way out of the door, “You’ve worked hard..I guess. Get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

 

After a long day of searching security camera footages, reassuring citizens that (no, they would not get abducted by aliens. Aliens did not exist) they were safe, and questioning more witnesses, Jihoon was thoroughly exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep, eat a bowl of strawberry ice cream, and maybe find another TV show to watch.  

 

He slung his work bag over his left shoulder, walking towards the door to greet Jonghyun, who stopped and motioned Jihoon to follow him to his office. 

 

It was the first time that Jihoon has ever been in it; like Jonghyun, his office was impeccably clean (Jihoon was sure he could eat on the floor if he wanted to), dusted to perfection, with every single pen and pencil lined evenly on his desk. Behind Jonghyun’s desk stood framed pictures, which Jihoon concluded to be all of the things that Jonghyun cared about the most. There were pictures of what seemingly looked like his family, his dogs, and even a small little girl. On the far right end stood a pile of knick-knacks that were neatly stacked. Jonghyun also hung all of his plagues from the city mayor on his walls; some old and worn, others bright and crisp. There were several of them, ranging from “Best Police Officer of the Year” or “Most Duly Noted Citizen.” 

 

Jihoon didn’t realize this until now, but Jonghyun knew his shit. He was more than the crabby middle-aged police officer that insisted on only drinking black coffee: he was the example that Jihoon had always dreamt of being when he first decided to join the police force. Jihoon made a mental note to start getting onto his good side.

 

“Sit,” Jonghyun said, tilting his head to the side to indicate the chair. Jihoon cautiously sat down, extremely confused as to what Jonghyun would want to say to him in private. 

 

“I heard you had a witness come today who claimed they knew what they were talking about.”

 

"What?” Jihoon blinked, “I didn’t interview anyone like that. I got a bunch of lunatics and attention-seekers.”

 

“Does the name ‘Miyawaki Sakura’ ring a bell to you?”

 

Jihoon instantly recalled the high school girl he saw that morning. 

 

“The high school girl with the short hair and glasses?”

 

“That’s the one.”

 

“What about her?”

 

“Did you thoroughly read her background information?”

 

Jihoon blinked again. “Yeah, she’s a foreign exchange student from Japan, and some computer whiz. Why?”

 

Jonghyun sat down and sank into the leather chair across from Jihoon. 

 

“Officer Park, you didn’t just talk to a random high school girl! For Christ’s sake, that was Miyawaki Sakura!”

 

“I’m still not seeing what’s so crazy about her trying to be a witness,” Jihoon slowly started, “To me, it looked like she was trying to ditch class or something. She went to the same high school as the other two missing girls.”

 

Jonghyun pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

 

“Miyawaki Sakura is no high school computer whiz, Officer Park. She worked for the Japanese government to help them hack into enemy computer bases.”

 

“Her?” Jihoon stared, “That girl? She looks like she only plays video games and watches Naruto on the weekends!”

 

“Officer Park,” Jonghyun said between deep breaths, “Miyawaki Sakura is an elite hacker. She doesn’t come meddling with public affairs unless she knows something that we need to know.” In Japan, she was known as ‘Posy.’ Have you heard of that name?”

 

“Posy? I read something like that a few months ago; the one who released the President of Japan’s corrupted files?”

 

“Yes. That’s her.”

 

“Since when did we trust hackers? They’re the ones who infiltrate our things-”

 

“Not everyone is a bad person just because they don’t work for the government,” Jonghyun sighed, cutting him off, “You need to tell me everything she told you.”

 

“I kind of told her to leave before she could explain herself.”

 

Jonghyun breathed in deeply, trying to keep his composure.

 

“Did you realize you may have blown our one and only lead? Tell me exactly what she said to you.”

 

Jihoon fiddled his fingers as he looked down at the ground, trying to remember his brief conversation with Sakura.

 

“She..told me that there’s someone after her and those other kids..and something about being dead in a few days if we didn’t help her.”

 

Jonghyun, now looking alarmed, instantly stood up and grabbed his walkie talkie. Jihoon followed in suit, and as the two of them ran through the double doors and out towards the police car. Jonghyun stepped on the gas, and the two of them started speeding down the streets. 

 

“You should have fucking listened to her!” Jonghyun yelled, gritting his teeth as he maneuvered the car back and forth, “What the hell were you thinking? How did you not know Miyawaki Sakura?”

 

A car came into their line of vision, barely missing them, and Jonghyun veered into the right lane.

 

“How was I supposed to know?” Jihoon said defensively, “If I didn’t know her, that means she’s doing herself a good job at keeping a low profile.” 

 

Keeping both his hands on the steering wheel, Jonghyun turned to Jihoon.

 

“If she revealed herself to the police, that means that something  _ very _ fucked up is going on.”

 

They pulled into Sakura’s apartment complex, hearing a high-pitched scream from the top floor. Exchanging a look, the two of them dashed to where the sound was coming from, before hearing a deafening BOOM. 

 

And then it was silent. 

 

Jonghyun quickly yelled into his walkie talkie to request for backup.

 

“I have a wounded person on Nekoyya Street! The culprit is armed. I need backup in three minutes max!”

 

Jihoon complied, also running up the stairs before seeing a flash of black jump out from the back window. He identified it as the shooter, and the person landed on the ground and started to run off. Jihoon swore under his breath, grabbed the gun out of his holster, and yelled back at Jonghyun. 

 

“Jonghyun, the culprit’s getting away! I need to go after him, take care of the victim!”

 

Before Jonghyun could say another word, Jihoon had already jumped off the stairwell and was running after him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH! This is somewhat a cliffhanger (?) for the next chapter, but I'm not sure if I'm satisfied with it yet. I am excited to say that the story is finally underway, and Woojin will be introduced soon! I'm very sorry if the progress seems somewhat slow with the plot; I've been thinking about taking a lot of time into creating the background as well. I'm actually a little worried that I may be rushing things!  
> Anywho, I will be back soon with another chapter! I still can't believe I knocked this out in one night..Let me know what you think of it! I love to read feedback.  
> Feel free to add me on Twitter @matchalai. I'd love to make new friends!


	3. You'll Rise Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jihoon catches up to the culprit.

 

 

 

> “He continued to see inevitable events from the past as avoidable, long after they'd taken their course.”   
>  ― Hugh Howey
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

Jihoon prided himself in being an exceptionally good runner back in high school. All those years of participating in track and field really paid off as he started to chase after the culprit.

 

But damn, this guy was fast.

 

Jihoon had been chasing him for five minutes now, the two of them playing a game of cat and mouse as they flew down the empty city streets. The only thing that lit the roads were the dim lanterns, and Jihoon had to squint his eyes in order not to lose sight of the culprit.

 

He had to give this person some credit; they never seemed to slow down, twisting and turning into different alleys and side streets that even Jihoon was having a tough time.

 

He gritted his teeth, forcing his legs to move faster than they already were, and started closing the gap in between them.

 

“Get back here, bastard!”

 

He was getting closer to the person, their back now in full view. Jihoon quickly reached for his gun and took a blind shot. It led to a large “BOOM,” missing the man, and Jihoon cursed under his breath as the man took a sharp right.

 

“Stop right there! This is the police!”

 

Unsurprisingly, the man paid no heed. Jihoon was now catching up to him, just as he realized that they were in a dead end.

 

Jackpot.

 

He took the liberty to full sprint and kick the unknown man in the back, leaving him toppling. Within a split second, the man was on the ground and Jihoon had his left arm twisted right behind him. With one knee digging into his back and handcuffs quickly clicked onto his arms, Jihoon had risen victorious.

 

“I’m Park Jihoon with the Seoul Police Department,” Jihoon stated, flashing his police badge, “You’re coming with me.”

 

The man chuckled.

 

“To hell I will.”

 

Before he could react, Jihoon was flung off the man and crashed into the brick wall, the man idly getting up and brushing himself off.

 

He looked around Jihoon’s age. He had stark blonde hair and sunkissed skin that even Jihoon could recognize in the night. He was also wearing a black jacket over a pair of dark blue jeans on, but that wasn’t what caught his attention; his eyes were the real show.

 

They were wild. Raw, full of emotion, but empty at the same time; the man’s dark brown orbs screamed distraught, anger, and hate, all in one, but carefully hid behind a cynical mask.

 

He held up a gun to Jihoon’s adam apple, who swallowed in fear. The cold metal pressed to his neck, leaving him on an edge. Jihoon’s eyes darted rapidly, trying to find a way to escape, but no solution was at hand.

 

“It’s a shame, really,” the man chuckled, “I would’ve thought they’d teach police officers how to fight.”

 

“Now tell me, Officer Park,” he read off Jihoon’s name tag, “What motivated you to run five miles after a lone suspect?”

 

“This is my job,” Jihoon spat, “Don’t act like you’re any special. You’re just like the rest of them.”

 

The man’s eyebrows raised in mock humor at his sarcastic response.

 

“Oh, so this is personal.”

 

“What?”

 

“No sane person would chase after someone for this long unless it means something to them,” the man stated, “So I’ve either killed your parents like I killed that lady back there, or someone like me did.”

 

Jihoon didn’t answer, simply glaring at the man. It was surprising, really; how could Jihoon act so defiant when all this man could do was pull a trigger and end his life?

 

“I am an a _ssassin_ , Mr. Police Officer,” the man whispered, getting close to his face, “I know pain when I see it. You clearly had someone fuck up your past.”

 

“And since when did criminals want to know an officer’s whole life story?” Jihoon shot back, now lifting his head up in defiance, “To hell I would tell you.”

 

“The Seoul Fire Incident.”

 

Jihoon was taken aback by the man’s sudden statement. He was searching for some type of sense to show that the man had gained leverage on him, but merely found sheer determination.

 

“What about it?”

 

“Your reaction tells me that it hits home for you,” the man continued, releasing his gun from Jihoon’s neck, “Quite frankly, I think we have a lot more in common now that I know that.”

 

Jihoon instantly pushed the guy off of him, and grabbed his collar. Lifting the man up by the shirt, Jihoon stared at him dead in the eye.

 

“It was a national tragedy. Don’t think you’re all-knowing just for knowing what it’s about,” Jihoon snarled. The man merely laughed at his aggressive reaction.

 

“See, this type of response tells me that you were involved in it,” he drawled, now spinning the gun between his fingers, “An average person would’ve just shrugged and say nothing more because it wouldn’t have meant anything to them.”

 

He tapped Jihoon’s wrist.

 

“Go ahead, try and kill me.”

 

“What?”

 

“Go ahead. Try it. First, I’m not scared, and secondly, I know you won’t.”

 

Jihoon’s grip tightened on the man’s hoodie, his fist white and shaking.

 

“And what makes you say that?”

 

The man fearlessly stared at Jihoon with a lopsided grin.

 

“It’s in your eyes.”

 

In a heartbeat, he was out of Jihoon’s clutches and stood casually across the wall. Climbing up the stack of boxes, he stood on the edge. The moon contrastingly struck his hair, making the platinum blonde almost seem aglow. He cast one last look at Jihoon.

 

“If you want to get to the truth of what happened ten years ago at that train station, feel free to meet me here in the same spot tomorrow at midnight. If you bring the police with you, I’ll know you chickened out. I’m not scared of a bunch of blue-uniformed donut eaters.”

 

He jumped off the wall, and he was gone. Jihoon waited to hear a soft thump, but it never came. Getting up and dusting himself off, he stared at his hands to find himself unseemingly unscatched besides a few minor scratches.

 

A flash of white was caught in the corner of his eye, and Jihoon squinted and knelt down to see what it was.

 

“What the hell?”

 

Wedged in the crack of the street was a openbudded white flower, with long petals and a thin brown streak running through them. Jihoon picked it up by its long stem to smell the overpoweringly floral scent, almost coughing in an instant and threw it back onto the ground.

 

“Did he leave this here?”

 

Staring skeptically once more, he picked it up again and slid it into his back pocket. Turning back behind him, Jihoon made sure that nobody was observing him or lurking around, and quickly shuffled off back into the main street. The unknown man’s words rang in his ears again.

 

_“The Seoul Fire Incident.”_

 

Jihoon frowned to himself. He knew that it was a publicly spread event, but the way the man talked about it was as if there was something more than what the public knew. It was if he acted like him and Jihoon were on the same boat. But Jihoon, similar to an assassin? It was more than unlikely; it was impossible.

 

But what stopped him from arresting this guy? Was he actually listening to a criminal? A voice inside of him whispered that he should maybe listen to what the man had to say.

 

He took a quick glance at the cross streets, memorizing the address.

 

A faint noise in the distance snapped him out of his thoughts. Using his ears to lead him to the noise, he found his police radio (to which he suspected had fallen off during his pursuit) and heard Jonghyun’s frantic voice on the other line.

 

“Officer Park! Officer Park!” the machine beeped, “If you hear this, send a message! Over!”

 

Jihoon knelt down to pick up the radio.

 

“This is Officer Park. I’m safe, but the culprit got away. Over.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, so tell me exactly what happened,” Daehwi said, leaning in, “It’s the biggest talk throughout the department.”

 

After finding his radio, Jonghyun and a few others had came speeding in police cars to find Jihoon unscatched. They scolded him, telling him to not run off like that again, but nevertheless were glad that he was safe. After seeing that he wasn’t hurt, Jonghyun told him they’d talk more tomorrow, and dropped him back off at his apartment, where Jihoon had instantly knocked out.

 

The next morning, Jihoon found himself at work as a new celebrity. The lady at the front desk even acknowledged his existence today, and wherever he walked, he received shocked stares. Daehwi, Guanlin, Daniel and him were now residing in the break room, feeling very similar to zoo animals in a cage.

 

“Did you hear? Park Jihoon in the City Control Department apparently chased down a murderer yesterday, unscathed!”

 

“I hear he was a world-class judo champion as a kid!”

 

“Is it true he took down a drug lord?”

 

Jihoon turned around to see the people whispering now silent. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to Daehwi.

 

“Okay, first of all, I don’t even know how any of the rumors got out, because quite frankly, I didn’t even do martial arts when I was younger.”

 

Daniel snorted.

 

“You were too engrossed in watching Kim Taehyung’s idol dramas to do anything else.”

 

Guanlin, Daehwi, and him all started guffawing at his joke, Daniel receiving fist bumps from his friends.

 

“Shut it, Kang,” Jihoon glared, taking a deep sip of his powdered coffee, “Maybe I’ll become a world-class judo champ overnight and beat that ass of yours.”

 

“Ooh, I’m so scared,” Daniel laughed, mocking Jihoon and wiggling his eyebrows. Guanlin chuckled before turning it back to the actual situation.

 

“No, seriously, Jihoon, tell us what _really_ happened. Even I’m curious.”

 

The three of them now turned to face Jihoon, their faces attentive.

 

Jihoon quickly panicked, asking himself if he should tell his friends the truth, about how the man knew about the Seoul Fire Incident, how he could’ve killed him but he didn’t, and how the man told him to meet him again. But instead, he sighed.

“Nothing really. I didn’t even get close to him, all I saw was his back.”

 

His friends stared at him in disbelief.

 

“Is that really it? You didn’t get to see what they look like or anything?”

 

“No,” Jihoon replied, lying through his teeth, “Not at all.”

 

To get things clear; Park Jihoon was not a liar. But something inside of him told him that this was the right thing to do. After all, his friends didn’t even know that Jihoon’s parents had died, so how empathetic could they have been?

 

After one last look, his friends laughed.

 

“I should’ve known not to believe the rumors!” Guanlin laughed, “Wait until Seonho hears about this. He’s going to call me a fool for thinking that Jihoon could’ve actually arrested someone.”

 

“Shut up,” Jihoon retorted, throwing his plastic cup at his Taiwanese friend.

 

As their laughter resided, Jihoon sulked before remembering the flower in his pocket, and popped another question.

 

“Daniel, remember when you dated that girl a few months back? I think her name was Yook Jidam?”

 

Daniel choked on his coffee at his sudden question, Daehwi and Guanlin now slapping his back to stop the hot liquid from burning his throat. The rest of their coworkers instantly looked alarmed, exiting the room as fast as they could. Daniel had turned pink from embarrassment, now settling back in his seat.

 

“Uh, kind of? Daniel replied, scratching his hair, “I mean, we didn’t last that long.”

 

“She was a florist right? I remember you used to complain about all the times she’d force you guys to visit flower shops together.”

 

“Yeah, the yellow poppies still appear in my sleep paralysis,” Daniel shivered,  
What about it?”

 

“I found this in...my cat’s mouth this morning and I had no clue what it was.” Jihoon took out the now crumpled flower, placing it in Daniel’s hands.

 

“Since when did you have a cat, Jihoon?” Daehwi asked, his nose scrunched, “And Jesus, that flower’s scent is way too strong.”

 

“I just got one, okay?”

 

Daniel paid Jihoon and Daehwi no heed, bringing the flower closer to his face. Looking at it carefully, Daniel turned it over on its side, before sliding it back to Jihoon.

 

“It’s an asphodel flower. If your cat had this, I’d be a little concerned.”

 

“And why’s that?”  

 

“Asphodel flowers have a distinct meaning,” Daniel said, a frown slowly appearing on his face, “Jidam used to tell me about what flowers to never include in a bouquet; an asphodel flower is one of them.”

 

Jihoon’s eyebrows raised at Daniel’s ominous commentary.

 

“What do they mean?”

 

“The literal translation is ‘My regrets will follow you to the grave,’” Guanlin chimed in,

 

 

 

> “Sounds like your cat picked this flower up from a very resentful person.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my GOD i'm so sorry for such late updates...I actually had another chapter planned to post but decided to write this instead yesterday; it's extremely unedited so I'm sorry if it has any mistakes. :(
> 
> Did anyone catch the Yook Jidam and Kim Taehyung reference? Can you feel the tension slowly building up? LOL
> 
> Anywho, school has been (guanlin voice: CRAZY) for me so I really want to thank everyone who has continued to read this. It definitely isn't one of my most popular works but I kind of like it, and I really hope it can get more exposure soon!
> 
> Let me know how you like this so far in my CC @wannasuns and my twitter @matchalai. I'd love to hear what you think! Hopefully, next time I'll know what a true ending is...
> 
> Shoutout to Gen and Marvy for reading this already. 
> 
> \- Caro


	4. In This I Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meet park woojin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHA this is so unedited but anyways! i'm finally back! i hope you enjoy reading, feel free to leave any questions or comments about the story below or in my Curious Cat on my twitter account, (@canopenerceo)!

"To be, or not to be, that is the question."

\- _Hamlet_ , William Shakespeare

* * *

 

“Please, have mercy on me! I swear I didn’t do anything!” the girl cried, huddling in fear. She stared fearfully at the dark shadow looming over her.

 

“I’m really sorry, Ms. Lee,” Woojin smiled, “But I don’t like liars, and you’re making my patience run _very_ thin. If you just told me the truth, I might’ve made your death less painful.”

 

He lifted her up, tightening his grip on her neck, the girl thrashing in the air.

 

“I know what you did to the others! You won’t get away with this!” the girl spat, “You will get everything you deserve!”

 

“No, sweetheart,” Woojin said, bringing her face close to him, “ _You_ are paying for all you’ve done.”

 

Her eyes widened, and before they could close, she fell to the ground, a knife lodged directly into her chest. After a few seconds, she was pronounced dead.

 

“You bastard!” a voice screamed, coming closer to him, “How dare you!”

 

The boy ran over to his (now) dead girlfriend, clutching her head in his arms.

 

“Chaeyeon!” he sobbed, “Chaeyeon, please stay with me!”

 

After a few seconds without a response, the boy slowly raised himself up, his whole body shaking in anger. Blindly grabbing a glass vase, he lunged at the assasin.

 

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

 

Woojin merely avoided him, and quickly fired his gun, the bullet hitting him directly in the adam’s apple. The man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and collapsed to the ground with a thud, dropping the glass vase which exploded into shards, and all was silent.

 

Woojin stared at the two minors, silently shaking his head at their foolishness. Kicking the boy’s body aside, he dug inside his pockets in search of anything useful. He figured that he only had around ten minutes before the police came due to all of the commotion he just caused.

 

He’s been looking for these two for a while. After a few investigations, Woojin had first hunted down Kim Chungha, Takada Kenta, Jeon Somi, Miyawaki Sakura, and now Lee Chaeyeon and Kwon Hyunbin. He could feel that he was getting closer to an answer.

 

He’s almost routine to this now. Catching them at their lowest points or in their houses, he’s always gotten the same answer every time.

 

_“You will get everything you deserve!”_

 

Woojin personally finds this really ironic; the fact that they still have the nerve to act as if _he_ is the one who was in the wrong, the one who’s ruined lives, and the ones who deserve to go to Hell. Woojin is the one serving them justice; if there’s anything who’s getting what they deserve, it’s _them_.

 

His eyes scoured the room, quickly looking for a place where they might’ve hid something valuable. Taking a small gamble, he spotted a noticeably loose floorboard. Kneeling down, he slid his fingers over the old oak, moving the board aside to see his suspicions were correct. Inside laid a small maroon box, locked and sealed shut. He fumbled with it for a few seconds before pocketing it into his jacket. He heard the police sirens now coming closer, and stared around to look for a possible exit.

 

Before he left, he took out two solo asphodel flowers, placing it directly into both of their mouths. Satisfied, Woojin decided to leave through the window. He slowly opened it, before landing quietly on the rooftop and taking his leave. He heard the police yell in panic, chuckling at his victory once again.

 

_“The White Asphodel.”_

 

To be frank, Woojin didn’t give himself that name; the police did. To follow in suit, Woojin decided to leave the white flowers as his signature and in order to irk them even more. But it started to grow on him, and he now kept a few of the flowers wherever he went for the occasion. It was fitting; the flowers represented resentment and revenge, which is exactly what he was going for.

 

He silently jumped down, quickly darting through the streets before he got back to his hideout. After glancing over his shoulder to see if he had any followers, he unlocked the door and headed in.

 

It was a small apartment he decided to rent out a few months ago. His designs were minimal, with only a large couch and a single painting hanging on the walls. It was stark white, as if nobody had even moved in in the first place. Woojin only kept iced waters and the occasional leftovers in his fridge. Taking off his shoes and taking his coat off, he went to go wash his hands of the blood.

 

Park Woojin was quite familiar with death. He’s administered it, caused it, and even inflicted it with his own hands. To Woojin, death was a sword that he held, and the power was addictive. The feeling of being in control was a foreign type of euphoria that he discovered, and after his first kill, he’s never looked back.

 

Yes, he was his mother’s worst nightmare; an assassin. He was the exact thing that kept his parents up at night, the ones that his parents had to chase after, and the thing that his parents told him were the worst kind of people.

 

By definition, an assassin was “a murderer of an important person in a surprise attack for political or religious reasons.” And this was somewhat true, but Woojin didn’t kill for anything political or religious. This one was personal.

 

At one point in his life, Woojin was like the other kids in his school. He had above average grades, an avid member of the school dance team, surrounded by lots of love from his family and his peers. He was on his way to Seoul University with a civics engineer major, ready to start the next chapter of his life.

 

And then the fucking fire came.

 

It started as a normal family vacation. As police officers, his parents somehow found a way to squeeze in a day to spend with Woojin and his sister, Yerim, and decided to go to the beach. So, they packed their beach bags, making sure to throw a tube of sunscreen in, and opted to take the train there.

 

Woojin still remembers it vividly; the elevator music humming throughout as they breezed past the masses of buildings. The worker carried a metal cart full of sweets and junk (which, Woojin and Yerim begged their parents to buy, and eventually caved in and handed them a $5.00 bill), and the passengers idly reading newspapers or dozing off. Yerim giggled as she tugged at Woojin’s arm, excitedly planning the sandcastle the two of them were going to make.

 

“Get your hands where I can see them!”

 

The whole train panicked. Gunshots blasted through the windows as people didn’t oblige, and the train lurched forward. Woojin’s eyes widened and his parents gave each other a quick and knowing glance. Their mother silently urged them to listen to the man, and Woojin and Yerim laid quietly on the ground, and their father slowly reached for the gun in his holster.

 

The man continued to walk up and down the aisle, making sure nobody was trying to contact the authorities. His face was covered over his ski mask, rifle in one hand and a grenade bomb in the other.

 

“Call the police and I’ll fucking blow you all to pieces!”

 

Woojin’s mom looked back at Woojin, motioning that he was standing in front of the emergency exit. There was a bright red handle that Woojin could pull, and his seat would go flying out the door. She mouthed a command, pointing right at the handle.

 

“Go.”

 

Yerim seemed to get the message, now clutching onto Woojin’s sleeve even tighter. They knew their parents; they would never want to abandon each other unless they knew there was no chance of making it. Their father gave them a knowing look, his eyes softening as he saw his children terrified on what to do next. He looked at his wife, the two of them sharing a quick moment before they bolted at the man. Woojin’s mom quickly ran towards her children, lunging at the emergency exit and pulling the latch down. They instantly felt themselves flying about of the vehicle, Yerim clutching onto his sleeve, and the two of them started tumbling down the hill.

 

Woojin made eye contact with his mom one last time, as the man instantly threw the grenade, and he saw them rise up in flames.

 

And that was that. Woojin and Yerim were later found by the police, still attached to the now burnt passenger seats. He later learned that all but another little boy survived the explosion, and his parents were among the several others who died. From then on, it was known as the “Seoul Fire Incident.”

 

Woojin was deemed as an orphan, him and Yerim were quickly separated into different homes, and he’s never been able to get in contact with her since. The police never tried to find out the real cause of the fire, deeming it an accident, and life seemed to have carried on.

 

So, Woojin keeps fire in a dark place in his heart; not only did it take his loved ones away, but it completely fucked him up. And since that day, he’s been paranoid in finding the man who started it all, and get his revenge.

 

Woojin prided himself as a freelancer, not working for a cliche organization, but preferred to hide in the darkness as a shadow. He’s been in the business for a few years now, still considered a rookie amongst the others. He has to admit that he’s came a long way since then.

 

Killing people was the easy part. Woojin viewed his victims as nothing but butterflies; they were pretty, weak, and when you ripped off their wings, they’d soon die. He made sure that none of his kills were excruciatingly painful; it was merely practice for the big thing.

 

He still remembers how his hands shook after his first murder; he was walking home and saw a drunk man stumbling down the streets muttering all sorts of profanities. From the looks of it, he was homeless without a future in mind. So Woojin decided to help him and get him out of his misery.

 

Woojin’s first murder is ingrained in his mind; the way the man’s head lolled back, how his hands were coated in red sticky blood, and the way the cold air greeted him into his new life shrouded in darkness. He still remembers the police sirens getting closer and closer, how he barely made it out alive, and the thrill of it all.

 

He knew that there was no turning back. Since then, Woojin has had a few kills here and there, but only with the goal of discovering what really happened that day during the Seoul Fire Incident. It’s racked and haunted his brain more than he’d like; but the more he thought about it, it made no sense.

 

First, why did the man choose to attack their specific train? How did they know that his parents were off of work? Why did he not just choose to kill everyone right away? Where did his sister go? And who exactly _was_ this guy?

 

As time went on, he’s been getting closer and closer to his goal. And now that he had this box, he knew he could soon get all the answers he’s been looking for.

 

Taking it out of his pocket, Woojin got a closer look at it. It was made of some type of wood but was smoothed out over time. Painted in a dark maroon, a gold lock held it together. The box was not any bigger than his palm, looking almost like it was fit for a ring. He shook the box trying to figure out what was inside, but there was no sound. Placing the box on his desk, Woojin attempted to forcefully break it open.

 

He took a hammer, trying to crack the lock without luck. Frowning, he proceeded to try to smash it from the top, but the box stubbornly held together without a single dent. Woojin then tried to take a drill to break it open, but the box still refused to break. Giving up, Woojin flung it across the room, where the box fell with a loud clunk.

 

“What’s up with you?”

 

Looking up, Woojin was greeted by his best friend and accomplice, Bae Jinyoung. The two had met when Wooijn almost got his ass beat, and Jinyoung decided to help him for no apparent reason. They’ve been friends for the last two years.

 

Bae Jinyoung was the perfect image for an assassin. With a small face and dark hair that barely covered his eyes, he was quiet and lanky. Woojin has rarely seen him smile, often keeping his stoic face. And unlike Woojin, Jinyoung was undercover, serving as a librarian during the daytime, keeping his night occupations completel under wraps.

 

Jinyoung had no personal motive when it came to murder. He was more invested into online crime like hacking and drug deals; which was much more behind the scenes. Woojin doesn’t even know why Jinyoung decided to help him, but he did. Woojin merely got lucky with finding his trail of clues. It was Jinyoung who was lazily searching the dark web, happening to pick up a small coding error. Knowing well, he later went to research it to trace it back to Sakura, and him and Woojin came to realize that somehow, somewhere, these teens were related to the Seoul Fire Incident.

 

He admits they were clumsy at first; Woojin had actually dragged Chungha’s body back to their apartment, unaware of what to do with it before Jinyoung had noticed the small ring on her middle finger. And that was when the chase had commenced.

 

Woojin was more for the action, and Jinyoung was more about the behind-the-scenes work, which is what made their teamwork so perfect.

 

Woojin nudged his head at the box. “I might’ve discovered something today.”

 

Jinyoung raised his eyebrows at Woojin’s sudden statement, walking over to pick up the box. He lifted it up to his eyes to get a closer look.

 

“Where’d you get this?”

 

“The Lee household.”

 

“Oh, you finally got to Chaeyeon?” Jinyoung mused, turning the box around in his hands, “How many has it been so far?”

 

“Six, if you’re including Kwon Hyunbin.”

 

Jinyoung didn’t answer, deep in thought as he walked over to the wall behind them. Knocking in a distinct pattern, the wall soon shifted, showing the hidden cabinet door, to which Jinyoung pulled out the rest of their finds. The two of them walked over to their kitchen table which Jinyoung quickly cleared before placing the knick-knacks in line.

 

A small opal ring from Kim Chungha.

 

A crumpled up note from Takada Kenta.

 

A locket from Jeon Somi.

 

An ivory fountain pen from Miyawaki Sakura.

 

And now, newly found, a box from Lee Chaeyeon (and Kwon Hyunbin, respectively.)

 

“They’re all normal objects that would look like they’d have no correlation to one other,” Jinyoung started, “But the people are all connected. I’m guessing after you got Chungha, the rest of them were notified and became alert.”

 

“There’s something they’re hiding too. Whenever I go on the regular Internet, everything is cleared up. Hell, Chungha’s parents created a foundation for the Seoul Fire Incident victims. But I feel like they’ve got someone on the inside; and someone who’s able to control the internet.”

 

“Sakura,” Woojin said, now putting the pieces together,  “She was a government hacker. God knows what the hell she was capable of doing.” Jinyoung nodded.

 

“I was searching the city security camera footages, and it seems like she went to contact the police before you got to her. If I had to guess, there’s a mole inside of the police who’s working with them.”

 

Woojin grimaced, glancing at the clock. He remembered the police officer that had caught him the night before, the one who seemed to hide something too.

 

“I might be able to help with that.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> deep star

After receiving the news of the Lee household having an intruder, the members all gathered for an emergency meeting. Armed guards stood outside of the room to make sure that they would not be interrupted. There was a group of people circled around a blood red table with a rose carved in the center of the wood. Wearing bright red masquerade masks to cover their identities, all were clad in fancy attire and were in a heated and panicked discussion after hearing about their subordinates being attacked.

 

“This motherfucking bastard,” a male voice growled, “We already killed his parents. Maybe we should’ve killed him too.”

 

“Chaeyeon, Hyunbin, and Sakura? In one go?” another voice interjected, “He already got to Somi, Chungha, and Kenta. That’s six of us. How the fuck does he know about us? We hid it even from the FBI!”

 

“Chaeyeon and Hyunbin had the box,” another voice whispered harshly, “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted it with her. If he gets to it, we’re fucked.”

 

“He’s getting awfully close,” a female voice interrupted, sliding pictures of the photographed man, “We have to put a stop to him, or else we’re going to be next.”

 

They all turned to a certain figure among them, waiting for them to speak. They’ve been awfully silent this whole time, merely shuffling a deck of playing cards they had at hand. After a pause of silence, they gingerly picked up the picture of Park Woojin.

 

“We don’t have to change anything. He won’t get anywhere near us.”

 

The person threw a picture down of another boy; one that the others immediately recognized.

“Park Jihoon?! What does he have to do with this?”

 

“They can only get to us if they work together,” the person smiled, now folding the photographs, sliding it into their jacket pocket, “Which won’t happen.”

 

“And even if they do,” the person continued, throwing down an Ace, “We always have something up our sleeve.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jihoon has never seen Jonghyun so relieved to see him alive. Jihoon had came in like usual, and Jonghyun and the other officers had instantly ran up to him with a flurry of concern and worry. After seeing he was unscatched, they finally let Jihoon breathe, and Jihoon finally recapped what happened that night.

 

Well, not entirely.

 

He did contemplate about telling them the full story, but his gut insisted that he should keep it to himself.

 

“So,” Jonghyun said, trying to take deep breaths, “Not only did we fail in catching the culprit, but Miyawaki Sakura is now fucking dead.”

 

It was the morning after Jihoon had valiantly tried to catch the culprit, and the officers were all back into another meeting room. Jonghyun sat at the front of the long table, across from where Jihoon and the other officers sat. Passing around photos that had just came back from the autopsy, Jihoon felt his stomach lurch at the images.

 

Sakura was barely a woman in the grotesque snapshots; she was completely mutilated. Her face was swollen, making it almost impossible to recognize her features. The sleek brown bob that Jihoon remembered was now tattered and stained with blood, clumps of her hair even missing from her scalp. Her lips turned a sickly blue, and her legs and armed proved that she had attempted to fight her attacker.

 

Was this how Jihoon could’ve ended up like last night?

 

“There’s more than just her death we need to be concerned about,” the assistant chief, Officer Minki stated, now passing around new pictures, “It’s also about how all of these recent deaths are connected.”

 

“But how?” Guanlin asked, “I’ve literally researched all of them, their backgrounds, and there’s no correlation between any of them. The only thing they have in common is that they’re all in a certain range of age.”

 

“You’re missing something, Officer Lai,” Minki sighed.

 

“Have you all heard of the White Asphodel?”

 

“We think he’s behind all of the recent deaths,” Jonghyun continued, “We found a white asphodel flower with each of the bodies at the crime scene.”

 

The police suddenly broke out into hushed murmurs. Jihoon, unaware, turned and whispered to Daehwi.

 

“Who’s the White Asphodel?”

 

“You don’t know him?” Daehwi looked back in surprise, “He’s this serial killer that’s been on the hunt for a year or two. Remember that one case with the murdered drunkard? He’s the culprit.”

 

“And how do we know that?”

 

“His signature is a small asphodel flower, like the one you showed Daniel the other day.”

 

“Has he ever been caught?”

 

“Never. You’re the only person who’s ever gotten away alive.”

 

Oh.

 

“...Jihoon, would you like to tell the group about your encounter with the White Asphodel?”

 

Jihoon and Daehwi ceased their conversation. All of the eyes were on Jihoon.

 

“I couldn’t get too good of a view of him,” he started, “He’s got a deep voice. Tall. Pretty built torso. Knows basic martial arts.”

 

“And how do you know this?” a voice called out.

 

“He tried to unarm me using a jiujitsu move,” Jihoon responded, showing the sharp arm movements.

 

“Interesting,” Jonghyun said, nodding to Minki to show the presentation, “Now, we’re going to show you all the current missing victims of the White Asphodel.”

 

Four pictures flashed onto the screen. Jihoon recognized them as the ones that Daehwi had printed onto the missing posters. Minki cleared his throat, beginning to speak.

 

“I’m sure you are all aware of the missing students,” he started, “at first we believed that the kidnappings were random, but after the death of Miyawaki Sakura, we believe the White Asphodel is behind the kidnappings too.”

 

“And after Jihoon was with him last night, a few hours later, the victims’ bodies started popping up all over. The Forensic Science department has been working all night for us to view the next upcoming images.”

 

“Well, look,” Jonghyun said, now flipping through the slideshow, “There was a flower with each of them. And the victim’s bodies all have significant knife or gunshot wounds, and based off what we know, that’s the only way the White Asphodel likes to handle their victims. He kidnaps them and leaves their bodies sprawled all over the city for us to find.”

 

“Where exactly were they?” an officer piped up.

 

Minki pulled out a map of the city and a red marker, starting to draw a red “X” to mark the finding spots.

 

“Jeon Somi was found at 2:15 A.M by the Seoul Water Fountain.”

 

“Kim Chungha was found at 3:00 A.M by her old school, I.O.I Academy.”

 

“Takada Kenta was found at 3:30 A.M by an abandoned construction sight.”

 

“...And Miyawaki Sakura was found at the city library at 3:45 A.M. All dead, all with the same flower with them.”

 

“How...specific indeed. It’s a goddamn treasure map,” Daniel said, shaking his head in disgust.

 

Guanlin furrowed his eyebrows, staring at the map.

 

“What’s with the specific times?”

 

“What do you mean, Guanlin?”

 

“What I meant was, what’s with the specific times that they were found at? Why were they found in less time than eachother? Like, look at the difference between Somi and Chungha’s findings. It was 45 minutes. But the difference between Chungha and Kenta was 30 minutes; which is fifteen minutes less.”

 

“...And the difference between Kenta and Sakura is fifteen minutes,” Jihoon finished, realizing and putting the pieces together.

 

“What are you onto, Officer Lai and Park?” Jonghyun asked, now turning to them, “What’s so important about the times?”

 

Guanlin took a deep breath. “Hear me out on this one, and I might be crazy, and you might not believe me, but,”

 

“It’s going down by fifteen each time. What if it’s a timer?”

 

“What?” Minki asked, scrunching his nose, “Can you go further into detail?”

 

Guanlin sighed.

 

“When I was working in Taiwan, there was a underground hacker named ‘Deep Star.’ They would hack into government bases, embezzle money; it was a nightmare. Think of Miyawaki Sakura, but even more secretive and elite. We had computer analysts chasing their every move, and even then, we never were able to catch them.”

 

“Then what does that person have to do with this?”

 

“Deep Star always put some type of timer with fifteen somewhere with every heist they did. One time, they even changed a bank account password to ‘FIFTEEN.’ It was almost like a signature or an invitation.”

 

“So you’re telling us,” Jonghyun said, looking directly into Guanlin’s eyes, “And when I ask this, answer me with complete honesty - Are you saying that the White Asphodel has a partner?”

 

Guanlin nodded.

 

“And if they’re working together, this case just got a lot more complicated.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> First of all, I'm back with another fic! This is definitely going to be one of my longer works and leaning more towards the "dark" aspect of things.  
> I will try to update as much as possible, and I hope you enjoy the fic so far!  
> This work is currently unedited. I will probably go back and make some changes, but for now, I hope you enjoy!  
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter [caro's twitter](https://twitter.com/canopenerceo). Let's be friends! Feel free to leave me any questions in my CuriousCat (@wannasuns) as well.


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